“Cash or check? I prefer cash.” Isaac snaps open the suitcase, exposing bundles upon bundles of hundred dollar bills. Noticing my shocked expression, he adds on, “This is the correct amount to save your family farm, isn’t it? I had my accountant run figures last week. He assured me this was correct.”
His smirk reveals what his mouth failed to acknowledge. He knows I had no intention of my wages going toward my schooling. I would use them to save my family ranch.
“Is the amount correct, Regan?” Isaac asks, his tone lowering with understanding.
“It looks about right,” I stammer, shocked and overwhelmed by the circumstances of our night. Not just our exchange, the entirety of everything.
The answer to my prayers is presented before me, but I can’t wrap my head around it. Nothing has ever been easy for me. I still have three years of law school to trudge through before I can contribute to my parents crippling business. . .don’t I?
“Why me?” I ask before I can stop myself.
For the first time tonight, Isaac looks conflicted. Even his shrug isn’t as defined as usual.
“There are hundreds of students in my predicament, so why me? A man as handsome as you would only need to smirk at Bella, and she’d work for you for free. She’s the top student in our program. She would be a prime candidate for you.”
“I want a fighter,” Isaac deadpans.
I huff, relieving the air from my lungs as rapidly as his confession stole the wind from my sails. “You saw the way I froze tonight. I’m not a fighter.”
"I disagree." He tugs a manila folder out from beneath a bundle of bills before adding on, "The fact you survived this makes you a fighter in my book."
Tears burn my eyes when he flips open the manila folder, exposing the source of my nightmares in horrifying detail. My lungs saw in and out as I fight through the heaviness clouding me. The memories bombarding me hit as hard as Luca’s Jeep when it smashed into the tree trunk. My throat is still raw from the silent screams I released when he was pulled from the wreckage mere seconds before he was covered with a thin white sheet.
I peer at Isaac with watering eyes when he asks, “Why didn’t you tell anyone what happened that night, Regan? Your family would have been there for you if you had given them a chance.”
He isn't judging me; he's merely confused. I understand. I'm still baffled by my actions all those years ago, so how can a stranger be expected to comprehend them? Luca was eccentric, dramatic, and severely suicidal. I didn't want his name tarnished by what he had done. I wanted people to remember who he was, not an illness he couldn't overcome.
For that reason, and solely that reason, I used the darkness of the night to escape the accident scene. I’ve never told a soul I was in his car when its excessive speed was instantly stopped by an old oak tree that now bears his name. My secret will remain with me until the end of time. I loved Luca, and nothing said or done will ever change my opinion on that. He was sick. His actions weren't his own. I am not going to let a lapse in judgment undermine our relationship.
I swipe at a rogue tear rolling down my cheek before reconnecting my eyes with Isaac's. "If I accept your proposal, my first suggestion will be for you to find a new PI. This one is extremely ill-informed."
I toss his manila folder back into the suitcase as if it is nothing but idle gossip.
Even knowing I am lying, Isaac nods. “Does that mean you’re accepting my offer?”
Images of Luca’s smile when we devised our scheme years ago flash before my eyes, causing my lips to inch high. He was so pleased with my decision to become a lawyer, he sent a text message to every resident at Colendale. It was his way of shouting it off the rooftops.
His pride forces me to say, “As long as your offer doesn’t interfere with my studies and family, I’ll abide by it.”
Isaac remains quiet, intuiting there is more to my demands.
He is right.
“But, if youevermention Luca’s accident again, or so much as breathe his name in a derogative snarl, I will not only quit, but the return of any advance payments will be null and void.” I lick my dry lips, praying a bit of moisture will help deliver my last set of words. “Those are my terms. You either agree, or we go our separate ways.”
I hold out my hand, ignoring the way it’s shaking. I need this more than Isaac will ever know, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be walked over. If Luca’s death taught me anything, it was that nothing good comes easy. You have to work for it.
I expect Isaac to take a moment to consider my provisions, so you can imagine my surprise when he simply shakes my hand. “This is the reason I chose you, Regan. The people who remain loyal during the bad times are the ones most deserving of the good times. This is just the beginning for you. How far you take it will only be determined by you. Don’t dream for success—”
“Earn it,” we say at the same time.
Chapter Six
Five years later. . .
She arrives at the same time every morning. Unlike five out of the seven days last week, her hair is pinned away from her face. She has on the same tight pencil skirt she wears every day, the same smattering of blush on her cheeks, and the same fire-engine red lipstick on her lips. Even the sprays of perfume dotting her neck are in the same spot.
For a woman whose presence excites every soul in the room, she moves blithely through the populated restaurant. It doesn’t matter if she is pounding the pavement on the isolated streets of Ravenshoe during her daily 4 AM run, or entering a restaurant full of money-hungry investment bankers and their trophy wives, she is forever noticed.
